


Human Enough

by Sorenalice



Category: Danny Phantom, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Psychology, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorenalice/pseuds/Sorenalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal gets a new patient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Enough

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC MAY BE VERY TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE, PLEASE CONSIDER THE TAGS AND WARNINGS BEFORE READING.

Hannibal raised his head, carefully examining the family before him, his eyes narrowing as he took them in.

He didn’t normally take family cases, in fact he avoided them whenever possible, but this one was too good to pass up.

It was the daughter who had contacted him, Jazz. The sixteen year-old future psychiatrist who stared at him with a look similar to someone meeting an idol. She was concerned about her family, especially her younger brother, Danny.

It was interesting that the boy’s parents were so out of the loop of their own son’s life.

Many parents do not know what their children get up to. A frequent question might be; “When was the last time you saw so-and-so?”, when the parent really should know if their children have been away with their friends. The fact that many parents don’t is worrying, but vastly less concerning than other things.

This situation was frankly alarming.

They had no idea what he got up to when he wasn’t at school. Even when he was at school they had no idea. The records of skipped classes and tardiness, and occasional unexplained absences were proof enough. They didn’t know when he got home, left home, where he was when he wasn’t home, who he was with, and according to Jazz, had forgotten his birthday on multiple occasions.

Not really the behavior of concerned parents. It was no wonder the boy’s behavior had escalated that far, his parents weren’t around to tell him when to stop and Jazz was oddly secretive.

“Really, Dr.Lecter, I don’t see why this was necessary. We’re a perfectly happy family.” The mother, Maddie, said with a smile.

“Then why are you here? Clearly you had your apprehensions about your family life, or Jazz is more persistent than I thought.”  
“Jazz has been so… adamant… about coming to see you, Doctor. I’m doing this to humor her.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jazz cross her arms and roll her eyes, typical irritated teenager behavior. He held back a smirk and nodded.  
“I understand that Dr. Fenton, but I have spoken to Jazz. She is very well educated in these matters, and I believe her doubts about your family situation may hold some clout.”

“Clout?” Maddie snorted and cocked her head at Hannibal, blinking at him in disbelief. “You’re telling me my sixteen year old daughter can judge her own family’s mental health and give a legitimate diagnosis?”

“As I said, Dr. Fenton, Jasmine is very well educated in the field of psychology, I would even be willing to have her as an intern, if she were not my patient. Age does not always mean accuracy, Doctor. Jazz’s fears are sound, from what I have observed.”  
Mr. Jack Fenton, the father of the family decided it was his time to join in. Danny simply sat back, his face disturbingly void of emotions. “Mads, I think what Dr. Lecter is trying to say is that Jazz’s reasons for wanting to see him are real, and denying that won’t help anything.” He put a massive hand gently down on his wife’s knee and rubbed, a frown gracing his face.

“What can we do, Doctor?” Maddie barely whispered.

“I would like to speak with Danny alone, if that’s alright. You can all sit in the waiting room.” All of the Fentons, except Danny, nodded and stood, leaving the regal looking room and shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

Danny sat stock still on the couch, never moving, hardly blinking. His pupils were dilated, and from what Hannibal could tell, his breathing was rushed, panicked. Short, small breaths. Deep bags hung under the boy’s eyes, too much for a fourteen year-old. He was thin, barely skin and bone and when his eyes did move, it was because he was looking for a threat.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I will not tell your parents anything unless it’s urgent.”

He barely missed the way Danny’s breathing hitched at the mention of his parents.

“I know.”

Hannibal nodded at the boy’s response. “Tell me about them. How do your parents treat you?”

The boy said nothing.

“Jazz tells me you haven’t been sleeping well. You wake up with night terrors if you get any sleep at all. What do you dream about?”

Danny stayed still, distrust clear on his face. Hannibal narrowed his eyes as a thought came to him. “If your parents are hurting you, I won’t let you or Jazz go back home with them. I will call the police, you will be taken into Child Protective Services, and there will be an investigation.”

Danny jumped a little. His expression a mixture of shock and fear.

“How- how did you get that?” His voice was barely a whisper. His hands were tense, white knuckling the smooth black leather of the sofa, halfway out of his seat.

“It is common for children suffering abuse to have night terrors and PTSD, among other things. Is someone else hurting you?”

“Wha- PTSD? Like what soldiers get?”

“Yes. I’m sure if we were to take a few tests for PTSD, you would score positively on many of them. Now, do you want to talk about it?” Danny relaxed a little, his fingers losing their death grip on the couch as he slumped into his seat, glancing up at Hannibal, unsure of what to do.

“And you- you’re under like, an oath or something too, right? Like anything I tell you is secret without a warrant or whatever, right?”  
“Doctor-patient confidentiality. I can’t tell anyone unless you give me permission. I will lose my license if I do. I do, however, have authorization to tell your parents about anything I think is harmful behavior, unless I deem it counteractive to healing.”

Danny nodded, his hands nervously dancing across his lap, deep in thought.

Hannibal waited silently while Danny mulled things over in his head.

Jazz said he used to be a surgeon, so he’s good with medical stuff and all that, and it would be really nice to have someone to talk to. I mean, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, but they’re too close to everything. They could get themselves hurt and I don’t want to load my problems onto them. But this guy, his whole job is problem helping. Like, he gets paid for people to load their problems on him. He’s really good at it too, I guess. Plus, if he tells anyone, he loses his job and is basically discredited from everything ever. Besides, he figured out the whole ghost fighting thing, even if he doesn’t know it’s ghost fighting. If he tells anyone, I may as well announce my secret to the world. It’s for the best.

“You can keep a secret, right?”

“Of course.” Hannibal smiled gently, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Danny took a deep breath and nodded, as if affirming his own thoughts and making a decision.

“I- uh, well I- shit- uhm… I’ve never actually told anyone, you know? Like, everyone who knows was either there when it happened or found out on their own. But- uh, I’ve never….” He paused, looking around the elegant room and debating what to say next.”A few months ago, I was in a lab accident. My parents built a ghost portal, and you know Amity Park, right? The ghost capital of the world?”

“I have heard of it, yes.” Hannibal said with a hesitant nod.

“That’s where I live. My parents are ghost hunters there, and they built a Ghost Zone Portal in our basement. It’s a door between the world of the ghosts, and the world of humans. At first, it didn’t work. They put the power button inside.

I was down in the lab with my friends, showing it off, y'know? My friend Sam wanted to get a photo of me in it, wearing a jumpsuit, about to explore a brave new world. Plus, I kinda wanted to go in anyway, maybe see if I could fix it.

It worked out a little better than I expected.

There were wires laying around on the floor and, I'm not exactly graceful. I tripped and leaned up against the wall to stop myself from falling.

I felt a click under my fingers and the next thing I knew, I was being fried by electrified ectoplasm.

I sorta lost consciousness ad some point, and when I woke up..." Danny slid off the couch and stood, taking a deep breath and looking Hannibal straight in the eye. "I looked like this. "

A bright ring of light gathered at Danny's waist,  splitting and changing what was underneath them.

"Danny Phantom. " Hannibal muttered, surprise working its way across his normally stoic face. "The ghost boy. You're the ghost boy. How?"

Danny bit his lip. "We don't really know how. We've figured out that I'm half ghost, and that the Portal altered my DNA somehow."

"Fascinating. Do your parents know? "

"Uh- no. I never told them..."

"I can understand why, but is it safe for you to live with this a secret from them?"

Danny transformed back into his human self and slumped back into the couch.

"I don't know. Probably not,  but what if I tell them and they don't accept it? What if they kick me out of the house and never want to see me again? What if-"

"Those are a lot of 'what ifs', Danny. Do your parents love you?"

"Well, yeah,  but-"

"Are they open minded about things, willing to accept new ideas?"

"Not about ghosts. They think ghosts are evil, unfeeling blobs of post human consciousness and ectoplasm."

"Are they?"

"Of course not! Every ghost I know can feel. They're just people. Bad people turn into bad ghosts and good people turn into good ghosts. People who aren't one or the other just want to be left alone in the afterlife."

"Have you told your parents that?"

"No, but..."

"How do you know they're so closed minded about ghosts if you won't even correct their thinking?"

"That... actually makes sense."

" I have a question, if you don't mind."

Danny nodded, glancing curiously up at Hannibal. "Sure..."

"Why did you choose to tell me your secret? We haven't known each other long and you haven't even trusted your parents with it?"

Danny thought on this for a moment, chewing on his cheek. "I just kinda thought that since it's your job to keep secrets and help people, I could trust you with it. I also needed someone I can trust to talk to about stuff. I mean, my friends are great, but they're just kids. I can't shove all of my problems down their throats."

"You are also a child. What is the difference between you and them?"

Danny hesitated,  looking away from Hannibal.  "...I already gave everything up. My grades are in the toilet, I'm in school for a total of maybe a half hour every day, on average. I may as well drop out."

Danny looked down with the admission. His heart clenching with all he had lost. "I never really get to hang out with my friends anymore because of the ghost attacks..."

"I see... You wanted someone who could help you carry your secrets, and who your secrets couldn't hurt."

"Yeah... And Jazz told me you used to be a surgeon, so I figured you'd be good at patching people up... I can't go to the hospital for a few reasons, so..."

Hannibal nodded with understanding "You need someone with healing experience."

Danny shifted awkwardly in his seat. "If- I mean if you're okay with that..."

"Of course. I can give you my cell number so you can call me when you need me. We can talk regularly with your appointments, which your parents can pay for, and everything else will be free of charge."

"Re-really? Thank you! That's-"

"I can’t expect a high schooler with no income to pay for massive medical bills."

"Thank you so much, Dr.Lecter. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I am going to prescribe you some pills, then you may leave. Your pharmacy will have everything in a few days. I will see you next week.” Hannibal stood, smoothing out his blazer as he slid towards the door, swinging it open to the room the Fentons occupied.

“Dr.Lecter?” Maddie stood, nervously chewing on a fingernail. Hannibal sighed and squared his shoulders.

“I have prescribed Danny some anxiety pills, as well as sleep aids, antidepressants, and SSRIs to treat Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” He held out a sheet of paper, various medications scribbled across the front.

“PTSD? How did Danny get PTSD?” Jack rose from his seat, grabbing the prescription and reading over it, his face contorted with worry.

“Unfortunately, that is not something that can be solved with only a half hour of therapy. I would like to have weekly meetings with Danny, to see if we can’t work through this.”  
“I-I don’t know if we can pay for that…” Maddie looked down, chewing on her lips, deep in thought.

“Our insurance covers all of  this, Mom.” Jazz piped up from her seat before she stood and put her hands on Danny’s shoulders.

“It does? How do you know?” Maddie stared at her daughter, her eyebrows up to her hairline in surprise.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Mom, I set this whole thing up, did you think I wasn’t going to pay Dr. Lecter?”

“Well I- I never really thought about it…” Maddie glanced over at Danny and let out a slow breath. “We can do weekly meetings. I’ll make sure of it. When can we set it up?”

“I am free Tuesdays at this time, if that works for you.”

“Of course it does, thank you Doctor.” Jack herded his family toward the door, shaking Hannibal’s hand and pushing them out the door. Danny waved and smiled at the Doctor as he was walked out of the office.

Months later

“Danny, would you like some pork?” Hannibal smiled up at the ghost phasing through his kitchen ceiling. Danny grinned, a hungry glint in his eye.

“Yeah, you have some of the best cooking ever. And Mom added the anti-ghost stuff to the cereal again, so I haven’t eaten all day.”  
“I’ll make it an extra large serving, then.” Hannibal smirked as he drizzled oil over a steaming pan, making it sizzle and pop. “How have you been doing?”

“Alright, I guess. Dash left me alone for some reason today, and I got a C on a math test, so things are looking up today.”

“And what about the ghosts?” Danny hesitated at Hannibal’s question. He raised a hand and rubbed behind his neck nervously.

“Well, I had to miss lunch today because Technus decided he needed to try and take over the beauty technology industry and I spent all lunch trying to track down rogue hair straighteners.” He finished with a chuckle. Hannibal’s lips quirked upward as he flipped the meat on the pan.

“Dinner should be ready soon. Do you have anything you’d like to talk about?”

Danny took a deep breath, leaning up against the cold metal of the countertop, and said, with a low, dark voice, “I have a 49% approval rating in Amity Park.”

“Is that good?” Hannibal didn’t even look at Danny as he sprinkled herbs over the pan.

“No. It’s higher than it was at the beginning, but I just had a 68% approval rating last week. I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Danny slumped over dejectedly with a sigh.

“Maybe it wasn’t what you did wrong. Are there new hunters in town? Your approval rating went down when the Guys in White moved in too, if I remember correctly.”  
“No, there’s nobody.” Danny shook his head. “I just don’t understand, I mean, why do they hate me? I’ve tried explaining, but they never listen. They just find more reasons to hate me, they even make up reasons to hate me. There was a woman who said she caught me standing over her baby’s crib at night. I’ve never even seen an actual crib being used, I’ve never seen this woman and she’s trashing me.”

“Perhaps that is why your rating went down. People are telling stories to make you seem evil. It’s a part as what is known as the ‘bystander effect’. People witnessing harassment and do nothing about it, encourage it, or even join in, and that is what is happening. People are joining in to sully your name, regardless of the truth.”

Danny pursed his lips in thought. “That does make sense. But why would they do that? I never did anything to them.”  
“People are strange creatures. When they see someone they like doing something, they might want to do it so they look good as well. You have some very influential people in your community who think your ghost half is evil, and that is where the problem stems from. If you could convince them of your true intentions, I would assume your rating would go up.”

“I just have to figure out who they are first.” Danny muttered with a crooked smile. “Do you need any help?” He glanced down at the pan, now empty, but still sizzling.

“No, I’ve finished.” Hannibal presented two plates, lavishly decorated with vibrant greens, red tomatoes, sliced to look like flowers, and juicy pork, all set up like art on the canvas of the plate. “Bon appetit.” He handed a plate to Danny and poured some water into a glass for him, setting it down on the counter and digging into his meal.

Danny devoured his in minutes. “Honestly though, can you teach me how to cook because wow.  I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” He licked his fork clean and tried to gather what was left of the sauce drizzled on his plate.

“I would love to cook with you.” Hannibal’s thin lips spread into a secretive smile. “Say, would you mind tasting something for me? Young taste-buds are so hard to come by these days.”

Danny gave Hannibal a crooked grin, smiling around the fork in his mouth. “If you made it it has to be good.”

Hannibal’s smile grew even more as he strode over to the fridge, swinging the door open and allowing the chilled air to rush out. Pulling out a small bowl of green pudding, he nudged the door shut and walked back over to Danny, barely holding back a grin. “It’s pistachio pudding. Made from scratch.” Giving Danny a spoon, he leaned over the metallic counter and waited.

Danny took a bite, savoring all he could. His eyes widened and he beamed up at Hannibal, wolfing down the rest of the pudding. “This is so good! Oh my go-” He cut himself off with a groan. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this good, like this is art.”

Danny’s smile stretched from ear to ear. He felt safe around Hannibal. He felt protected. Like nothing could reach him. Hannibal Lecter was a surgeon, the only reason he quit that to become a psychiatrist was because he lost a patient.

Not exactly confidence-inspiring, but honestly, Danny didn’t care. There was an adult he could talk to as himself. Completely as himself. No lies, stories, or cover-ups. He could be a ghost and a human around someone who had the knowledge on how to help him, both mentally and physically. He could talk about his ghost and human problems. He hadn’t felt so safe since the accident.

He felt himself lean against the counter, his mind feeling fuzzy and far away as his vision blurred into a mess of shining metal and crisp white walls. Black clouds wove through his eyes, and before he knew it, he couldn’t see.

He would’ve thought it strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He slipped away not long after he realized that something wasn’t right.

\---X---

The first thing he felt was cold. Even for him, with his normally hypothermic temperature it was cold.

His brain pounded against his skull, making him groan with discomfort. He raised his hands to his head, trying to rub out the tension, but found he couldn’t.

His hands were bound at his side.

His eyes snapped open.

A smooth ceiling, the familiar surroundings of Hannibal’s kitchen, but the familiarity was tainted with the knives prominently displayed not two feet from his head.

He was laid at the center of the counter, his arms strapped down with glowing ropes, in perfect anatomical position.

He tugged at his wrists, trying to free them from the stiff grip of the rope, but was stopped when cold laughter echoed through the kitchen. “Who’s there?” He sat up, or tried to anyway, his eyes desperately searching the room.

“Danny, Danny, Danny…” the voice chuckled in a condescending tone. “Don’t you know you  shouldn’t trust people with your secrets?” The voice ended with a giggle, footsteps sounded around the edge of the room.

“Wha-what do you want?” Danny struggled against his bindings once more, focusing closely on slipping his hands out.

“It’s very simple, really. I want you.” The voice, so familiar in its sound, but so unfamiliar with how the words were spoken, moved again, pausing before continuing. “I consider myself a connoisseur of fine foods. I only find the best, make the best. Now, normally I only eat the rude, I do have standards. But you, Danny, a half ghost, that’s a once in a lifetime taste, wouldn’t you agree?” Danny saw a shadow flicker behind the knives, and suddenly everything made sense.

“Hannibal? What- why- what-?”

“You know how much I love gourmet foods, especially rarities. Why wouldn’t I take the chance to enjoy this one? I doubt anyone will be able to try a half ghost after this.”

Danny’s struggling stopped, an incredulous look on his face as he stared disgustedly up at Hannibal. “What, what does that even-” A look of realization spread over his face. “Oh god...” He pulled himself as far away from Hannibal as he could, squirming on the countertop, trying his hardest to not vomit. Danny had imagined many grim scenarios that came from his being half ghost, but being pinned down and prepared to be eaten by his fucking psychiatrist was not one of them. He glared at Hannibal, struggling away from him.

Hannibal chuckled and turned away.

“How would you like to be done? I prefer medium, although I haven’t had ectoplasm, so I wouldn’t really know. I’m assuming you’ve had some.” Hannibal turned back to Danny, a thin smirk gracing his face.

“You’re sick.” Danny spat at Hannibal, struggling against the cuffs that tied him to the table.

“Illness, Danny, is a relative term.” Hannibal slid the knife into Danny’s stomach, dragging it down his side and slicing off an inch of skin and sinew.

Danny’s scream was wrenched out of his mouth, and echoed around the kitchen, reverberating off of the stiff metal countertops.

“That is a prime cut, Danny. You should be proud of yourself.” Hannibal tied a gag around Danny’s thrashing head, wiping away the tears that had streamed down his face. “If you’re any good, I may prepare you for some guests I’m having tomorrow night.”

Danny yelled out from behind the gag, blood streaming out of the gaping hole that used to be his side. Hannibal gave him one last smile before slicing him across the throat, smiling faintly as blood spewed out of Danny’s neck like a firehose, a look of fear and shock finding its way permanently to Danny’s face.

Hannibal made quick work of the rest of him, organizing and cutting away at the slightly glowing organs. He wound them tightly in plastic wrap and set them gently in his freezer, admiring the collection of fine meats he had amassed.

He took the cutlet that he had made while Danny was still alive and seared it in a pan, cutting it into small squares and seasoning them with choice herbs. Just a dash of white wine and vinaigrette later, and he was finished.

It was one of the best meals Hannibal Lecter had ever had.


End file.
